Where None Have Ventured
by Raine Is Crazy
Summary: OOTP spoilers. In the start of sixth year, Harry is angsting over Sirius's death. But when Hermione accidentally transports Harry and her back in time twenty-four years, they have to scramble to hide their identities from his sixteen-year-old parents.
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. *police appear out of nowhere and grab my arms* Okay! Okay! I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. *police start to drag me away* ... *Marauders' Map appears* I SWEAR I'M INNOCENT!!!!! *kicking and screaming my head off being dragged away* OKAY!!!!! FINE!!!!!!!! I SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT I OWN THE WHOLE HARRY POTTER FRANCHISE!!!!!! *police stare at me with looks saying, 'That's why we're taking you away, duh,' and start dragging me away again* ALL RIGHT!!!!!!!! ALL RIGHT!!!!!!! *sob sob sob* I SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT I OWN ABSOLUTELY NOTHING OF HARRY POTTER, NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING!!!!!! *sob sob sob* *police reluctantly let me go* Jeez, you police dudes and your TEMPERS ... where's JKR so I can buy Harry from her????  
  
Summary: It's been done SOOOOOO many times, but I don't care. I can still write it. So there. Nyah, nyah. *sticks tongue out at poopie police* Hah. Anyway, some certain people to back to a certain time and they meet OTHER certain people and they all have certain adventures!!!!!! WOW!!!!!!!!! What's not to like????????? Cummon, read and review. For me? *bats eyelashes and puts on cutesy face* Pretty, pretty please??????  
  
  
  
Harry Potter rested his head on his hands and stared lazily out the window. Professor Binns' voice droned on and on, but no one – with, of course, the exception of Hermione – was paying the slightest attention.  
  
Harry watched as two birds chased each other across the grounds, swooping and darting in the autumn sunshine. He wondered vaguely what kind of birds they were. A sharp poke in his side brought him back to class.  
  
He glanced to his right. Hermione was glaring at him. "Take notes," she hissed. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Hermione, you know that we can't concentrate properly in this class. There's a sort of magical barrier that we regular students just can't get past. You, however, seem to be some sort of superhuman witch, so can't we please just study off you later?" he whispered. Hermione rolled her eyes in turn, but looked slightly mollified.  
  
Harry turned and stared out the window again. The two birds weren't there anymore. He wondered where they had gone. He let his mind wander until his thoughts landed on Sirius.  
  
Harry sat with his head down on the desk, trying not to think about it and failing miserably. The loss of his godfather, the closest thing to a father he had ever known, had put Harry into a depression over the entire summer holidays. To see all of his friends again when the school year began had cheered him up – for a day or two. Then he had gone back to brooding.  
  
He could always hear the whispers that followed him constantly through the halls and classes. He could always just see, out of the corners of his eyes, gazes flicking his way whenever he passed. The world knew he wasn't lying, now. They all knew that he had been telling the truth. That'd show them.  
  
Everyone in the school – with the exceptions of the Slytherins and a certain Potions Master – was being considerably friendlier toward him than they had been last year, when they'd all thought he was a lunatic. It did something to ease his suffering, but that was a very small something.  
  
Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly. It was so unfair. All of his friends were sympathetic and comforting, but no one could truly replace Sirius. A hole sat in the pit of his stomach constantly, draining his energy and putting him in unhappy moods, to say the least.  
  
He didn't deserve it.  
  
What had Sirius ever done that was so horrible that his punishment was to be killed by his own cousin, a Death Eater? What crime had he committed?  
  
He stole a Hippogriff, Harry thought sardonically, and almost chuckled out loud. No, wait – that was me and Hermione who stole the Hippogriff. He didn't even do that.  
  
He distinctly heard the quill on the desk next him stop scratching away at the parchment. Harry turned and glanced at his friend. She was looking at him with concern.  
  
He shook his head. I don't want to talk about it right now. She nodded to signify that she understood, and went back to taking notes.  
  
Ron, on the other side of Hermione, leaned back in his chair to look past her at Harry. The black-haired boy didn't look up; his face was buried in his arms at the moment.  
  
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, and then both turned to Harry, who was oblivious to the look they had exchanged. Hermione touched his shoulder lightly.  
  
"Are you okay?" she said softly. Ron nodded, looking worried.  
  
"Fine," Harry said, his voice muffled. The other two glanced at each other again and backed off, not wanting to make their friend angry.  
  
Harry silently cursed himself. Why won't you talk to them about it? A little voice spoke to him inside his head. They just want to help.  
  
The bell signalling the end of class rang out, and everyone snapped out of their dazes and stood up to leave, the buzz of conversation starting up again.  
  
Ron took a step toward Harry as the three stood up, and said warily, "You sure, mate?"  
  
Harry nodded shortly. "I'm fine. Let's go," he said, and headed for the door.  
  
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other for the third time in as many minutes, and hurried out of the classroom to catch him up.  
  
  
  
A/N: Well?????? Whaddya think?????? I hate writing little introduction things like this where nothing really happens, but I have LOTS OF IDEAS for the plot and will get working on the next chapters RIGHT AWAY!!!!!!! Review, review, REVIEW!!!! Can't stress this enough, PLEASE REVIEW!!!! If you read this and don't review, that is the worst crime of all!!!!! So ...................................... PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!! ( 


	2. Chapter 2: Back

Hermione sighed helplessly. "This isn't working."  
  
The three friends were sitting on couches in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Harry refused to talk about Sirius, and snapped at them whenever they mentioned it.  
  
"You go on, Ron, I'll talk to him," Hermione murmured. Ron looked reluctant.  
  
"But ..."  
  
"It's okay, you go ahead and tell Professor McGonagall that we might be a little late."  
  
Ron glanced back at Harry, who was throwing dark looks at the floor, and nodded. "All right, then. See you later." He hurried off.  
  
Hermione turned to her other friend. "Harry, why don't you want to talk about it? It's good to get things like this off your chest, you know."  
  
Harry glared at her. "I don't care! None of you – none of you – can possibly know what I'm feeling right now!"  
  
Hermione looked down at her lap. "I do," she said very softly. Harry stood up.  
  
"You DON'T! It wasn't YOUR parents that were murdered! It wasn't YOUR godfather who was murdered! They were MINE! He was like a second father to me!"  
  
"Harry –"  
  
"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!" he roared. "YOUR PARENTS ARE STILL ALIVE AND WELL!"  
  
"Actually, they're divorced," Hermione said coolly. "I haven't seen my father in about eight years. My mom remarried the year that I got my Hogwarts letter."  
  
Harry stopped yelling, but still looked angry.  
  
"And I do know how you're feeling, or at least somewhat. I lost my uncle when I was eight years old. He was like a second father to me when my parents got divorced. He died of cancer."  
  
Harry sat down, slightly stunned. "I – I didn't know your –"  
  
"I know you didn't. I haven't told anyone here except you, now. I didn't want to think about it."  
  
She was still staring at her lap, her hands clenched together so tightly that they were white.  
  
"So ... you mean the man we met ... that's your stepfather?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
There was an awkward pause. The fire crackled in the hearth, making the only sound in the room.  
  
"Sorry," Harry muttered after a while. "Didn't mean to blow up in your face."  
  
"It's okay."  
  
There was another silence. Both teenagers stared at their laps, mulling over their losses.  
  
Hermione looked up slowly, and squeezed his hand briefly before saying quietly, "We'd better get to class. We're already late for Transfiguration, and you know how Professor McGonagall gets ..."  
  
"Yeah. Absolutely. Let's go," Harry said, and stood, stretching. He offered a hand up to his friend, and she took it.  
  
When she was fully upright, he made to let go, but she held on, giving him a small smile.  
  
They climbed through the portrait hole and walked down the empty halls, heading to class.  
  
They didn't talk, but rather walked in comfortable silence, footsteps echoing on the marble floors.  
  
When they reached the hallway just outside Transfiguration, Hermione stopped. Harry stopped too, and glanced at her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just – don't tell anyone, okay? About my ... my dad?" she asked in a small voice.  
  
"Not even Ron?"  
  
"No. He'll make such a fuss about it ..."  
  
Harry grinned. "It's true." He smiled warmly at her. "All right, then. Not a soul."  
  
She smiled back. "Thanks."  
  
He slung his arm about her shoulders, squeezed briefly, and walked over to the door, about to knock.  
  
Abruptly, a bundle of walking sticks swooped down out of midair and nearly came crashing down onto Hermione's head. Peeves cackled. Hermione stumbled, trying to duck the canes being pelted at her, and tripped on the edge of a carpet on the floor. She went flying forwards.  
  
Harry's arm came out of nowhere and stopped her fall. They both heard a tiny snap, and the chain around Hermione's neck broke. Though Harry was holding her up, the miniature hourglass that had, until now, hung about her neck crashed to the hard stone floor, and it broke.  
  
Whirls of light and dust streamed forth, and both Harry and Hermione were engulfed in it. A strange spinning sensation came over them both, and the world dissolved before them.  
  
Harry closed his eyes. Spinning so reminded him of Floo powder, of which he was none too fond. When they slowed, he chanced cracking one eye open again, then the other as they stopped turning altogether.  
  
"What happened?" he whispered, standing Hermione upright and steadying her when she stumbled from dizziness.  
  
"Uh – I don't know. Where did Peeves go? He was just here ..." she said.  
  
"Hey – the rug's gone, too," Harry said. They both looked around in bewilderment. "What's going on?"  
  
"My – my Time Turner broke," she said in disbelief. "It was right on the floor – where did the glass go?"  
  
Harry was suddenly reminded of Dudley's birthday six years ago, at the zoo. He remembered the incident with the boa constrictor that he accidentally set free, and the manager of the reptile house had said, "But the glass! Where did the glass go?"  
  
Now the glass from Hermione's Time Turner was gone. Wait – Time Turner?  
  
"Hermione, since when do you have a Time Turner?" Harry asked suddenly, turning to her. "I thought you gave that up after third year."  
  
She shook her head. "I decided that I could handle it again, being three years older, and seeing as I want to do so many subjects, I figured I'd ask Professor Dumbledore again."  
  
"Oh. But – you can't handle it, obviously. You just broke it!"  
  
Hermione blushed. "I was going to repair it, of course, but it's gone. I should go apologize to Professor Dumbledore now, in fact. Come with me?"  
  
"But – but we have Transfiguration, and McGonagall will –"  
  
"I'm hoping that Professor Dumbledore will explain it to her. Now, are you coming?"  
  
Harry sighed and grinned slightly. Hermione could still be bossy when she wanted to. "All right, all right ..." he said, and they started off in the direction of the Headmaster's office.  
  
Behind them, the door opened, and a boy of about their age stepped out of the classroom wearing Gryffindor robes. His black hair fell into his eyes, and he was tall and well built.  
  
Harry and Hermione both stopped and glanced over their shoulders. That's odd, thought Harry. The only Gryffindor boys my age are me, Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. Who's he?  
  
The boy saw them, and grinned. "James! Who's this?" he said mockingly, teasing.  
  
Harry frowned. "Uh – I'm not James," he said, his voice choking just slightly. "I'm Harry."  
  
The boy laughed. "Oh, okay. But who's this, then, Harry?" he asked, laughing. Harry's frown deepened.  
  
"Uh – who are you?"  
  
"What, did you hit your head or something?" the boy grinned, and walked over to Harry and Hermione.  
  
Hermione had frozen when the boy had called Harry James. Now she was looking worriedly at Harry, hoping that he didn't get angry at whoever this was.  
  
"Come on now, Prongs mate, introduce me to your ..." – the boy grinned flirtatiously at Hermione – "... friend."  
  
"Look, I'm not James, I'm not Prongs, I'm Harry, I told you," Harry said, beginning to get frustrated. He parted his hair to show this boy his forehead. "See?"  
  
The boy looked impressed at the sight of the lightning-shaped scar.  
  
"Whoa! Cool bit of work there, mate. How'd you get that done?"  
  
Harry glared at him. "Why do you think I'm James?!"  
  
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"  
  
Harry stared incredulously at him. "What's your name?"  
  
The boy waved a hand in front of Harry's face. "Hello, anyone home? I'm Sirius, remember? Padfoot?"  
  
Harry and Hermione both froze, staring at the boy.  
  
"Wh-what?" Harry stammered, backing up a few steps.  
  
The boy stared back. "Sirius! Sirius Black! Your best friend! Honestly, what's up with you, mate?"  
  
"I'M NOT JAMES!" Harry said loudly, and the door opened again. Another boy with black hair stepped out. His hair was much messier than the first boy's.  
  
"Padfoot, who're they?"  
  
The first boy – Sirius – glanced over his shoulder. "What – James?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What's going ON here?!" Harry said loudly, and pushed Sirius aside to look at the second boy.  
  
His heart seemed to stop.  
  
It was his dad.  
  
There was absolutely no mistaking it. The same messy black hair, the bony knees ... everyone was right. He was the image of his father. But James had blue eyes, not green.  
  
"Da- James?" Harry whispered. The other boy stared at him.  
  
Sirius and Hermione both stood to the sides, mouths open in surprise, while father and son stared at each other in disbelief.  
  
"You – you look just like me," said James.  
  
"Are you – are you James Potter?" Harry asked. Both other boys looked sharply at him.  
  
"Yes ..." said James slowly. "How'd you know that?"  
  
"I – I dunno. I don't even know where I am. Is this Hogwarts?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What year is this?" Harry demanded, thinking furiously. If Hermione's Time Turner took us back in time when it broke ...  
  
"It's 1976."  
  
... then this is really my dad.  
  
"Where did you come from, anyway?" said Sirius.  
  
And – and Sirius.  
  
Harry backed up against the cold stone wall, and sank down to the floor, in shock. Hermione hurried over, knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, staring up at her best friend's father and godfather.  
  
"We're – I don't know how to say this, but – we're from the future," she said nervously. "We're not from this time. If this really is 1976 ... we're not even born yet."  
  
Sirius and James glanced at each other. "Okay ..."  
  
"And we're not supposed to have come here – only my Time Turner broke, and now I can't find it –"  
  
"Time Turner?"  
  
"Oh – it's from our time – you must not know about it ..."  
  
"Obviously, not."  
  
Sirius and James glanced at each other again. "Look, let's take you to Professor Dumbledore. I think he'll be able to ... sort you out."  
  
Hermione nodded dumbly, and helped Harry to his feet. He wouldn't look at anyone.  
  
The four walked in silence down the halls, heading towards the Headmaster's office just as Harry and Hermione had been about to do before Sirius appeared.  
  
"So ... uh, what's it like, in the future?" said Sirius curiously after a few minutes.  
  
"It's not much different so far," murmured Hermione. No one talked from then on until they reached the stone gargoyle.  
  
"Licorice sticks," said James, and the gargoyle came to life, springing aside and revealing the slowly turning stone staircase. All four students stepped on, and when they reached the top Sirius pounded thrice on the golden knocker. A few seconds of silence elapsed, then the door opened.  
  
Professor Dumbledore looked just the same as always, though he was many years younger now, at least to Harry. He stared at the Headmaster.  
  
"Ah yes, young Mr. Potter and Mr. Black. What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Well –" Sirius said, glancing at Harry and Hermione.  
  
Harry stepped forward. "Hello, Professor. I'm Harry P–" I'd better not say I'm a Potter. "Harry Peregrin," he decided on, and proceeded to tell the Headmaster – and James and Sirius – the whole story.  
  
"... And then they suggested we come here, and – and – what do we do now?" he finished somewhat lamely.  
  
Dumbledore was staring at his hands, folded on the desk. He looked deep in thought.  
  
"Well, for the time being, pardon the pun, as I have no means to get you back home, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for however long it takes to – as Mr. Black put it – sort you out. Now, you are both in Gryffindor?" he asked, looking from Harry to Hermione.  
  
They both nodded.  
  
"All right then. Miss Granger, you shall stay in the sixth-year girls' dormitories, and Mr. Peregrin, you shall stay in the sixth-year boys' dormitories. Mr. Potter and Mr. Black would be happy to show you around, no?"  
  
James and Sirius nodded simultaneously. Dumbledore smiled briefly. "Good. Extra robes and books will be supplied for you both. Good day, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Peregrin, Miss Granger."  
  
"Good day, Professor," said James and Sirius in unison.  
  
"See you," said Harry.  
  
"Thank you, Professor," said Hermione.  
  
Dumbledore merely smiled in response, and waved them out.  
  
~**~**~**~**~  
  
"Well, this is where you'll be staying, I guess," said James to Harry as he opened the door to the boys' dormitory. "Look – there's a bed set up for you already."  
  
"He sure doesn't waste time," muttered Harry, and they went back down stairs.  
  
Hermione was sitting in the common room on a couch, staring into the fire. Harry remembered that they had been sitting there just before coming back to his parents' time.  
  
"So, uh, Harry, right?" James said, and Harry nodded, throat tight. "So – you need anything else?"  
  
"Nope," said Harry quickly.  
  
"Right then, I'm going back to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Are you two coming, or will you wait until tomorrow morning to be announced?"  
  
"I – I think we'll wait, if you don't mind," Harry said, and James nodded.  
  
"Okay. Sirius! You coming?"  
  
Sirius looked up. "Yeah. See you later, Harry, Hermione," he said, and they both left the room through the portrait hole.  
  
Harry sat down beside Hermione and they both stared at the fire for a long time.  
  
Hermione was the one to finally speak first.  
  
"Harry –"  
  
"I'm fine. Really."  
  
"You're sure?" she asked, looking at him in concern, but he nodded shortly.  
  
"Yep. Fine."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Harry was the first to doze off, slipping sideways on the couch. His head fell into Hermione's lap, and she absently smoothed his hair out of his face.  
  
After a while she fell asleep too, head hanging down in front of her.  
  
~**~**~**~**~**~  
  
Some hours later, James and Sirius were the first ones back to the common room. They'd skipped dinner and taken some food upstairs so that they could get the two newcomers out of sight until the next morning.  
  
Sirius entered first. He immediately saw the pair sleeping in front of the fire, snoring gently. He grinned, and motioned for James to be quiet. When James saw them, he grinned too.  
  
The boys put down the rolls they had brought up and tiptoed over to Harry and Hermione. James transfigured a roll into a pail full of water.  
  
"Aw, they look so peaceful," whispered Sirius with a snicker. "His head in her lap and all – d' you think they're ... ?"  
  
"I dunno, mate, but they're about to get wet."  
  
With that, James upturned the bucket.  
  
"Bleeargh!" spluttered Harry, instantly awake, his mouth full of water and his clothes sopping.  
  
"Eek!" Hermione gave a little yelp, her hair all wet. Harry noticed he was lying in her lap, and sat up quickly.  
  
"You – you –"  
  
James and Sirius were laughing and grinning so infectiously, that Harry had to see the humour in the situation, and started chuckling as well. Hermione giggled, and pulled out her wand.  
  
"You're going to pay for that, as soon as I dry us off," she said. "Scourgify!"  
  
The water evaporated instantly, and she, Harry and the couch were dry. Both sixteen-year-olds leapt to their feet, and Harry pulled out his wand as well.  
  
Harry grinned wickedly. "We're gonna hex you into the middle of next week," he said.  
  
James and Sirius both laughed harder. "You can't have learned more than us, we're the most advanced students in DADA at Hogwarts!"  
  
Harry and Hermione grinned at each other, then turned back to the other two.  
  
"You may know lots, but we know more," laughed Hermione, and she pointed her wand at Sirius. "Petrificus Totalus!"  
  
Sirius's arms and legs snapped together, and he toppled over.  
  
Harry shouted, "Tarantellegra!" and James's legs started dancing furiously, carrying him all around the room as he tried unsuccessfully to stop moving and aim.  
  
Harry and Hermione both kept casting spells at their targets, laughing themselves silly.  
  
Finally, after about ten minutes of hexing, James and Sirius both looked like they had been dragged behind a magical shape-changer for hours.  
  
Still giggling, Hermione said, "Finite incantatem," and all the signs of the hexes faded.  
  
James and Sirius got to their feet slowly, looking warily at the pair of teenagers.  
  
Harry and Hermione grinned. "Never mess with members of the DA," said Harry, and he and Hermione both laughed again.  
  
"Where – where'd you learn all that?"  
  
"We've always been the top students of the year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Harry's been through ... let's just say he's been through more than we care to talk about," said Hermione.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and silently agreed not to tell them anything. "Oh, just things ..." she said vaguely. "You'll – you'll find out later." 


	3. Chapter 3: Adjusting

Disclaimer: I know it, you know it, WE ALL know that Harry Potter belongs to JKR. I'm not JKR. It does not belong to me. So there, you police dudes. *police back off still glaring suspiciously at me*  
  
A/N: I know this idea has been done a HUGE number of times, but guess what? I'm gonna do it too!!! Sorry for the insanely long periods of time between updates, but I DO write you long chapters, riiiight? So I hope it makes up for it.  
  
Summary: When a certain person is depressed after a certain person's death, another certain person and that certain person get transported back in time and meet other certain people, and the first certain person is still depressed but starts to heal with time. Get it? He's back in time, he's healing with time ... yeah. I'm sooooooooooo funny.  
  
Okay, third chapter! Here you go!  
  
*~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*  
  
As soon as the four heard footsteps outside the portrait hole, Harry and Hermione scurried up the stairs to their new dormitories.  
  
Harry looked around. It was exactly the same as in his time ... but somehow different, as if missing something.  
  
He sat down wearily on his bed. It wasn't fair. Seeing his father ... and Sirius ... both of whom were dead in the future ... it made his head ache with the emotions swirling around inside him.  
  
He put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He wished that Ron were there. He'd cheer him up.  
  
Just thinking of his best friend, and not knowing whether he would be able to see him again, made Harry's mood drop even lower. Finally he decided to go to sleep, in hopes that his spirits would improve by morning.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione lay awake for hours, hands behind her head, staring up at the canopy. She was just rolling over to close her eyes when the dormitory door opened and light flooded into the room. Hermione wrenched the hangings shut far too late.  
  
"Hannah?" said a girl's voice. She was giggling. "Is that you? Come on, you goose, you're missing out on all the –"  
  
The girl ripped aside the curtains to reveal Hermione with her head under the covers. The other girl laughed. "Oh, come on, Hannah, don't be such a spoiler," she said, and pulled the sheet back.  
  
Hermione looked up.  
  
"Oh –" said the girl. She turned bright red. "I – I'm sorry – I thought you were my fr... wait, who are you? I haven't seen you before."  
  
Hermione sat up to get a better look at this girl. She was silhouetted against the light coming from the door, so her features were invisible.  
  
"Uh – it's hard to explain ..." began Hermione. She stood up. "You see – me and my friend Harry – we're –"  
  
"Well, first of all, what's your name?" asked the other girl. She flicked her wand, and the torches around the walls flared into life, lighting up the room and revealing her face.  
  
Hermione gasped.  
  
The girl had long, auburn hair that fell in soft waves down just past her shoulders. She was small and slim, and had startlingly green eyes.  
  
Very familiar green eyes.  
  
"L-Lily?" Hermione stammered. The other girl was instantly alert, and held up her wand warily.  
  
"Okay, who are you, and how do you know my name?" she asked, her tone edgy and sharp. Hermione hastily dropped her wand onto the bed beside her, and raised her hands in the air.  
  
"I'm Hermione Granger, and I know you from – from – pictures," she said, somewhat desperately. The redheaded girl looked suspiciously at Hermione.  
  
"How'd you get in here?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "Look, it's a long story, and it'll all be explained tomorrow morning at breakfast, okay? I'm tired, goodnight," she said wearily, climbed back under the covers, and closed the hangings, leaving a very confused and suspicious girl standing alone.  
  
~*~  
  
That night, Harry tossed and turned a lot, waking up every two hours, it seemed. He couldn't seem to stay asleep. He kept dreaming of his father, and Sirius, and Remus, and his mother, and Peter Pettigrew.  
  
At four in the morning, Harry woke again, biting his lip to keep from crying out.  
  
~*~*~*~*~Dream~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Harry ... Harry ..."  
  
"Leave me alone."  
  
"Harry ... it might even be painless ... I would not know ... I have never died ..."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Lily! Go! Take Harry and go, I'll hold him off!"  
  
An evil cackle filled the air and echoed around his head ... a blinding flash of green light ... his mother's scream ...  
  
~*~*~*~*~Reality~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry woke up with his scar burning and his hand clapped tightly over his forehead. He was sitting bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily and sweating.  
  
He shuddered. The stupid old nightmare was back again.  
  
He glanced at his watch and groaned, seeing that it was only four o' clock. He tried consistently to fall asleep again, but couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the laughing face of Voldemort, and the sneer of Wormtail just behind.  
  
Harry grimaced at the thought of them both. He tried one last time to drift off, but finally gave up. Swearing under his breath, he swung his legs off the bed and onto the floor. He dressed quickly and went down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. Where would he go when people started to come down? He wished he'd thought to bring his Invisibility cloak.  
  
Harry gasped.  
  
It was his father's Invisibility cloak!  
  
Harry went back up to the sixth year boys' dormitory and crept on tiptoe over to James' bed. Harry felt around under it, and brought out a trunk. He whispered "Alohomora," and it opened with a quiet click. He rummaged around through it, picking his way carefully under dirty shirts and odd socks. How lovely. His father's dirty socks. What a souvenir.  
  
Finally, buried under a pile of odd junk, Harry pulled out the fluid-like cloak. He quickly put everything back inside the trunk as it had been, closed it, and pushed it back under his father's bed. Harry tucked the cloak under his arm and hurried back down to the common room before anyone could wake and hear him.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione tossed in her bed one last time and then sat up, rubbing her eyes and biting her tongue so as not to scream with frustration. She was tired and wanted to sleep! Why couldn't whatever God there was listen to her pleas and let her rest? Hermione sighed. If she couldn't sleep, she might as well go down to the common room and wait to be discovered there.  
  
Getting dressed in the dark was not as easy as it sounded. She stubbed at least three different toes and banged her head against a bedpost. She was surprised the thud didn't wake anyone.  
  
When she was finally finished, she whispered "Lumos," and looked at herself in the mirror to check that she'd gotten dressed properly, which she had. She quickly whispered "Finite," and the light from her wand went out. She tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs to the common room. A figure with messy black hair was sitting on the couch, staring into the fire.  
  
"Uh – Harry?"  
  
~*~  
  
Harry looked over his shoulder to see her in the stairway. "Oh – hullo, Hermione," he said, yawning. She yawned too. "You couldn't sleep either, then?"  
  
"No," she admitted, coming and sitting down beside him. "Not a wink. Kept waking up all night long."  
  
"Same here. My old nightmare – it – happened again," Harry said, sighing and staring at the fire. He felt her arms go around him.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.  
  
"It's not your fault," he mumbled.  
  
"I can only imagine what you must be going through right now," she said somewhat awkwardly. "You know we can't tell the people here anything about our time and what's happened, right?"  
  
"I know."  
  
"You must be so torn up about Peter Pettigrew. I know I am."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They sat like that for a long while, staring at the flames and not saying anything.  
  
"Oh – I found this," said Harry suddenly, and showed Hermione the Invisibility cloak that he'd taken.  
  
"How did you – oh, Harry, you stole it?"  
  
"Not exactly ... it'll be mine someday, right?"  
  
"But not today! Go put it back."  
  
"What about when people start coming down?"  
  
"We'll explain at breakfast, remember?"  
  
"Fine. I'll go take it back to my dad, then," Harry sighed.  
  
"Oh – that reminds me – Harry, last night I met your mum."  
  
There was a silence. Harry froze. "M-my mum?" he said, swallowing hard. All of this was coming to fast at him, one thing right after another.  
  
"She was rather suspicious of me, as a matter of fact."  
  
Harry chuckled weakly. "She was?"  
  
"Had her want out and everything. Although, I suppose I would have done the same, being in that situation," Hermione said, smiling as Harry laughed quietly. "I'm sorry for bringing her up. Just, talking about your father's clock reminded me, and you're going to meet her sooner or later anyway –"  
  
"I know, it's all right," said Harry, but his throat tightened as he thought of his mother.  
  
The two friends sat in silence for a while longer. The flames danced and crackled and sparked, making Harry even sleepier than he was already. Hermione yawned and rested her head on his shoulder, curling up on the couch and tucking her legs underneath her. To make his arm more comfortable, and for no other reason, he lifted it up and let her snuggle up against him, and he dropped his arm. It happened to land around her shoulder, but that was a combination of coincidence and gravity, of course. Absolutely not a thing more.  
  
Harry glanced down at Hermione and felt a very unexpected twist in his stomach. He shook his head and looked back at the fire. Perhaps it was because he was still extremely tired; perhaps it was because the weight of all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours was getting to him. Perhaps he was simply crazy. But where had that feeling come from?  
  
Voices startled him out of his thoughts.  
  
"... I didn't see him in the dorm – oh, here he is! Harry, up so early?" Sirius said as he came down from the dormitories. He grinned when he saw Hermione there as well. "I see. Lucky with the ladies, are we?" Harry turned bright red, and Hermione sat up, twisting around to glare at her friend's godfather.  
  
"For your information, Sirius Black, Harry and I have known each other since we were eleven years old. We're FRIENDS. Can you get that through your thick skull?"  
  
Harry snorted while Sirius raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right! I've seen what you can do with a wand, I'm not about to argue," he chuckled. "Although I'm positively certain that I could beat you in a fair, organized duel."  
  
"I seriously doubt that," said Hermione sweetly, and Harry laughed outright. Sirius frowned as James came down the stairs.  
  
"Morning, all," James yawned, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. "Woss going on?" he said, sounding still half-asleep.  
  
"Granger here reckons she could beat me in a duel, mate," said Sirius. James laughed.  
  
"Hah! I'm not sure just who would win!"  
  
"Oh, come on, you really think she could beat me?" Sirius raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Those two cursed you up pretty good the other day, Padfoot," chortled James.  
  
"They did you too. Hey, where'd they go?"  
  
Harry fought not to laugh. While his father and godfather had talked, he'd pulled the Invisibility cloak over himself and Hermione. She was biting her lip so as not to laugh as well. James and Sirius were looking around the common room.  
  
"Weren't they just there on the couch?"  
  
"Yeah, where'd they go?"  
  
"You know, I think they've given us the slip."  
  
"Very observant of you, Prongs."  
  
"Why, thank you."  
  
"They're probably still around somewhere."  
  
"We'll ignore them."  
  
"Good idea. So, have Quidditch practices started yet?"  
  
Harry tuned out of their conversation and thought instead of his own beloved Firebolt back in his time. He wondered whether he should try out for the Gryffindor team while he was here or not. After debating with himself, he decided against it. What if he was transported to the future during a game? No, it certainly wouldn't do.  
  
Harry felt a tug on his sleeve. "What?" he whispered so Sirius and James wouldn't hear. They were now talking of pranks and were fully absorbed in their own conversation, so wouldn't have heard anyway, but he couldn't be too careful.  
  
"I was just thinking – your father is a bit –"  
  
"Full of himself, I know."  
  
"I was going to say that he's a bit taller than you are."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Both sixteen-year-olds under the cloak tried not to laugh at this last comment, most unsuccessfully. James and Sirius looked up and over at the couch.  
  
"I think they're still on the couch."  
  
"Only one way to find out."  
  
The two boys sauntered over. Sirius sat on one end, and James sat on the other, promptly squashing Harry and Hermione. James grinned. "Found 'em."  
  
He stood up and lifted the Invisibility cloak up off of the other two, who were laughing along with Sirius. He couldn't help grinning too.  
  
"So ... you have an Invisibility cloak too?" he asked Harry, who thought fast.  
  
"No – I found this one on the floor in the dormitory," he said innocently. "I thought I'd bring it down so that I wouldn't be seen by people who don't know how I got here."  
  
"Then this is my cloak?"  
  
"I guess so."  
  
James looked suspiciously at Harry. "I put it in the bottom of my trunk."  
  
Harry shrugged. "Well, I found it on the floor." There was a slightly tense silence for a few seconds, whish Sirius broke.  
  
"SOOO ... ah ... Harry, d'you play Quidditch?" Sirius asked, his tone light. When Harry didn't answer, Hermione spoke up.  
  
"Yes, he does, and he's brilliant at it, too. You should see him fly. He's got a Fi- ahh ... a new racing broom back in our time. He's on the Gryffindor team, too – Seeker."  
  
"Do you play?" Sirius asked her. She shook her head.  
  
"No."  
  
"It's the one thing she can't learn from a book," Harry said, grinning. "That's why she doesn't."  
  
Hermione shoved him playfully. "That is not the reason, I'll have you know, Mr. Potter," she said loftily.  
  
"Why not play, then?" asked James. "It's loads of fun."  
  
"I – I wouldn't be any good at it."  
  
"How will you know if you haven't tried?" Harry offered. James and Sirius both gasped.  
  
"You haven't tried playing Quidditch?"  
  
"Let's go find some brooms."  
  
"No, really, I'll probably be horrible –" Hermione protested as the three boys stood up, grins on all their faces. "Honestly, I'll be really bad, I could hardly get off the ground in first year –"  
  
"That was six years ago, Hermione," said Harry as he pulled her up off the couch. "You'll have improved by now."  
  
"I haven't even got on a broom since then! Oh, I don't want to, it's fine, I'm perfectly content to watch –"  
  
James and Sirius rolled their eyes at each other and looked at Harry. "Is she always like this about flying?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "It's true that she's hardly touched a broom since first year." He glanced at the girl. "And in third year on the hippogriff – she was scared then, too..." he said, starting to finally put two and two together. "In fact, she was scared when we were riding Thestrals last year, too."  
  
Harry's throat suddenly tightened. They had ridden Thestrals to the Ministry of Magic at the end of last year to go and save Sirius from Voldemort ... only Sirius hadn't been there, but a group of Death Eaters had ... Harry shuddered at the memory of that horrible night. And swallowed – hard – as he thought of the death of his godfather.  
  
"Harry? You all right?" James was saying. Harry nodded.  
  
"Yeah, sorry. I was – thinking of something, that's all." He swallowed again and looked down at the floor. Hermione was watching him, and noticed his discomfort. She knew what was making him like this – the Thestrals, taking them to the Ministry, the night that Sirius had died. She hesitantly put a hand on Harry's arm. He was tense. "Anyway – Hermione, are you afraid of heights?" Harry asked, fighting to swallow the lump in his throat and looking up at her inquisitively.  
  
She dropped her hand off his arm and stepped back a bit. "Um – maybe?" she said in a small, timid voice. The three boys broke into grins.  
  
"Oh, really?" said James.  
  
"Why didn't you ever say so?" asked Harry.  
  
"Come on!" exclaimed Sirius, and they all helped in escorting a loudly protesting Hermione through the portrait hole. She talked all the way down the flights of stairs and into the Entrance Hall and out into the grounds, saying that she was going to fall off and that she was going to be killed and that when they buried her, could they please not write "Afraid Of Heights" on her tombstone?  
  
"Oh, shut up, Hermione, please?" begged Harry as they reached the broom shed by the Quidditch field. He clapped a hand over her mouth to stem the flow of protests coming from her while James and Sirius got out four brooms.  
  
"Here," said Sirius, tossing two to Harry. He caught them, and handed one to Hermione.  
  
"Look, you know how to mount the broom, right?"  
  
She nodded, finally unable to say anything.  
  
"Good. Mount yours, then."  
  
All four did so. James took over. "Okay, first of all, you're holding your broom wrong. Here." He walked over and corrected Hermione's grip, adjusting the position of her hands on the wood. Then he corrected her posture, and her stance, and then informed her that her grip had slipped again and moved to correct that when Sirius coughed.  
  
"Ahem ... Harry and I are alive too, you know, mate," he said, rolling his eyes at Harry, who grinned. James promptly tossed his head arrogantly.  
  
"I'll have you know, Mister Padfoot, that if this girl is to become a Quidditch player, she needs to have the right grip and stance and –"  
  
"I think I'm ready now."  
  
All three boys turned to Hermione, who was sitting on her broom and looking at it expectantly. James sighed.  
  
"I told you, you just kick off gently from the ground, and it'll – or, you could do that," he said, scratching his head as Hermione rocketed into the sky. Harry rolled his eyes and Sirius whooped.  
  
"I think I've got it from here!" she called down. James glanced at Harry.  
  
"You know, she's kind of annoying."  
  
"I know," said Harry, not taking his eyes off of the small figure flying about the field. "But you get used to it after a couple of weeks or so."  
  
"You think you'll be here that long?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "No idea. So, are you any good at flying?"  
  
James grinned. "Are you?"  
  
Sirius grinned and jumped on his broom. "Well, get up in the air! If you're going to race each other, better to do it before breakfast." 


	4. Chapter 4: Breakfast & Misgivings

Disclaimer: Applies to all chapters, I don't own 'em.  
  
*~*~*A/N: Hi everyone, OMG 19 REVIEWS!!!!!! I THINK I'M GONNA DIE FROM HAPPINESS!!!!!!! :D THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING!!!!!  
  
[SoMeBoDy4reviews]: Hmmm, interesting that you think that. First flame I've ever gotten. What an experience! Okay, thanks for your thought. *shrug*  
  
[Avestia]: Thanks!  
  
[KayteeLern]: Aww, thanks, you're so sweet! TWO REVIEWS here's two cookies! Thank you for the creativity points, I think I'll eat them now. Wait, what? They're NOT the same as cookies? Oh. Well, okay. Lol ... actually, she's not good at Quidditch, but she can fly, at least. You'll see what happened to her in this chapter. ;) Oh, and about Harry's last name – you are absolutely right, and you'll see what happened in this chapter. :D  
  
[Darrell P. Potter]: Thank you sir, I love that saying too!  
  
[Mrs. Sniffy]: YES!!!!!!!!! Me too!  
  
[Midnight3]: What? OH – now I see it ... I think what I said was that there were only a few other boys in Harry's grade in Gryffindor, not at Hogwarts. I DID say that Sirius was wearing Gryffindor robes, right? Oh dear, I might have messed up that whole sentence. Thanks for pointing it out, mate!  
  
[flying-piggy-123]: WOW! Two reviews!!! Thank you so much! And yes, I'm updating right now, in fact.  
  
[Delaney Skye]: I like time travel stories too, and yes, I'm not sure I meant for them to be quite so un-suspicious. I apologize deeply. How about I write something in this chapter that happens to MAKE them very, very suspicious? Although they are kind of thick skulled, yes.  
  
[Insane and Crazy]: THREE REVIEWS! I love you. You know you're my favourite reviewer! :D *sigh* Yes, I've been told ... don't worry, they aren't WIMPS ... they're just ... OOH OOH I just got an idea!!!! OOH OOH I'm gonna write the story now!!!! INSPIRATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
[Devonny]: WOW, this is one of your favourite stories??? Thank you so much, I feel so proud!!!!!!!!!!!! *gives you lots and lots of cookies* Oh and by the way, yes, it was Harry. But James and Sirius didn't notice because, as I've said to Delaney Skye, they are a bit thick-skulled. Lol ... but maybe they did notice, you never know.  
  
[Allie]: You think so? Thank you, and welcome to my story!  
  
[in love with love]: Hi Rach, how be's you? That's good, I hope you liked my story, and thx for reviewing!!!  
  
[numberoneseeker]: Hi Sarah! How r ya? Hope ur well, lucky bum you get a holiday, u n Rach ... grrr ... bleh Canadians get no holidays!!! poo. Thx for reviewing, hope you like this chappie!  
  
Okay, fourth chapter, people, enjoy!  
  
(Also, I'm really sorry if I take a while to update. I do make nice long chapters though, right? You still love me?)  
  
~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~  
  
A tired but happy bunch of sixteen-year-olds put their brooms away and trooped indoors, joking and laughing about Hermione's adventures while flying. Harry's favourite in particular was when she had slipped off the end of her broom about forty feet up.  
  
She started falling, and shrieked. James spotted her and dove, catching her just five feet from the ground. The sudden stop and extra weight threw him off balance, and he tumbled off his own broom, taking Hermione with him. Harry had watched in amusement as one of his best friends attempted to disentangle herself from his sixteen-year-old father.  
  
Now the four of them walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. As James and Sirius sat down, Harry noticed them immediately start talking to another boy with thin, light brown hair and grey eyes. Harry elbowed Hermione and nodded towards the boy. Hermione's eyes widened as she recognized a sixteen-year-old Remus Lupin.  
  
Sirius turned around. "Harry, Hermione, meet out friend Remus. Remus, this is Harry and Hermione, and –" he leaned closer "– I'll tell you where they came from later."  
  
Another boy sat on Remus's other side. He had thin black hair that seemed plastered to his scalp, and watery, pale blue eyes. His nose quivered when he talked.  
  
"Oh – and this is Peter. Peter, Harry, Hermione," said James airily.  
  
"Hullo," said Peter quietly as Harry and Hermione sat down on Sirius's left. Harry's fists clenched under the table as he gritted his teeth and nodded in acknowledgement of the smaller boy. Hermione was determinedly staring straight ahead, and nodded tightly as well. Sirius glanced at them both and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"No, we're fine," said Hermione, forcing a smile onto her face. She wasn't the one whose parents would be betrayed by this boy, but that person was one of her best friends. She had a right to be angry with Peter, even though technically he hadn't done anything – yet.  
  
Sirius shrugged and continued talking to Remus and James. Harry stared down at his empty golden plate, stomach tightening uncomfortably. He didn't want to have to deal with Peter Pettigrew right now – not when he was happy and exhausted from flying on a broomstick. Not when he was sitting right next to his father and godfather when they were his own age. Not when he could look up and see his mother, his own age, sitting a ways down the Gryffindor table. Not when he was –  
  
His mother?  
  
Harry's eyes widened. A girl with wavy auburn hair and emerald eyes – eyes just like his own – was chatting animatedly to a group of girls around her. They all laughed suddenly at something she said, and someone else started talking. Harry watched their conversation, his breath quickening. It was his mother. The last time he'd seen her alive was over fifteen years ago in the time he lived in. He chewed on his tongue. No one here would understand why his throat was tightening because he'd spotted a girl that they'd known for years and, to them, was nothing special. They didn't know who she was to Harry.  
  
"Harry? What's up, mate?"  
  
Harry reluctantly tore his gaze away from his mother and turned to James. "What?"  
  
"Something interesting over there?" James asked, nodding in the direction Harry had been gazing just a few moments ago. Harry himself shook his head and looked away.  
  
"No, not really. Just –"  
  
"Scouting out the girls, eh, mate?" Sirius grinned, raising his eyebrows. Hermione snorted.  
  
"You have a one-track mind, Sirius Black. And may I remind you that I'm a girl?"  
  
"Oh, I haven't forgotten!" Sirius said, draping his arm around her shoulders. She rolled her eyes and shrugged him off.  
  
"Get your own!" Harry grinned, putting his own arm about his friend. She and Sirius laughed.  
  
"What'd I miss?" James asked, leaning around Sirius so he could see them. "Did Snivellus get his cereal dumped all over his head?"  
  
"No, but good idea, mate," said Sirius, and he raised his wand, aiming it carefully at the Slytherin table. Harry and Hermione's gazes flicked towards where he was pointing it, and each raised their eyebrows as they recognized a sixteen-year-old version of their future Potions professor. He was still as greasy as ever, even at sixteen. He wasn't sitting particularly near anyone, nor was he talking to anyone. He just sat there, hunched over his cereal bowl, eating slowly.  
  
Hermione glanced around. No one had noticed yet that Sirius had his wand out, not even the teachers, who were chatting amiably up at the High Table. She leaned over Harry. "Um – Sirius, are you sure you should be doing that?" she asked. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Sure, who's gonna stop me?"  
  
And with that, he muttered under his breath, "Wingardium Leviosa!" He slowly aimed his wand tip higher – and higher – until –  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Sirius whipped his wand back under the table in a split second. He had obviously done it before, because the wand didn't break, and in fact his hand didn't seem to have moved at all, except for the fact that it was no longer visible.  
  
There was a loud cry of disgust from across the hall. All the people at the Gryffindor table turned to see what had caused it. Snape exited quickly amid gales of laughter, dripping with milk and flakes of soggy cereal.  
  
Harry was reminded of the time in fifth year that he had looked into Snape's memory in Dumbledore's Pensieve. Sirius and James had picked on him then, too. Harry sighed. You couldn't change people's personalities, especially when you weren't in your own time.  
  
Harry heard a distinctly loud voice from down the row, and looked to see who was laughing so hard. It was one of the girls sitting by his mother, and she looked quite silly, rolling back and forth on the bench and laughing so hard it looked as though her eyes might pop out of her head. Harry rolled his own eyes and started to eat his breakfast.  
  
~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~  
  
"So ... just how long, exactly, are we going to be doing this?"  
  
"As long as we need to find out all we can about them."  
  
"They seem normal to me and everyone else."  
  
"Yeah, well, they would."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"You wouldn't see a plot if it danced naked in front of you."  
  
"If it was a female plot, then I would. Oh, forget it – answer my question."  
  
"I dunno, for as long as we need to. Dumbledore said to watch them, and I plan to."  
  
"You and your plans."  
  
"What about them?"  
  
"They never work."  
  
"Only because you mess them up."  
  
"Anyways, I don't like this whole 'spy' business. It's –"  
  
"Informative?"  
  
"No, it's –"  
  
"Exciting?"  
  
"No –"  
  
"Oh, come on, mate –"  
  
"I was going to say that it's boring."  
  
"Yeah, well, Dumbledore's orders, remember."  
  
"Fine. But keeping up this happy act is b-o-r-i-n-g, you hear me? BORING. I can't stand not doing any pranks. It's been almost two days since our last one. I'm in agony here!"  
  
"Keep your hair on. We'll find out what we need to know, and be done with it."  
  
"What do we need to know?"  
  
"If they're Death Eaters or not. We can't be too careful. Honestly, from the future? Please. They might be a little more inventive."  
  
"Suppose they really are two sixteen-year-olds, and they really are from the future."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So what would you do if that were true?"  
  
"I'd make sure they got back to where they came from. Now everyone thinks they're exchange students from – where was it again?"  
  
"We'll ask someone later. Now, do we have to hold off on pranks? Only I've got a really, really good one in mind right now, and –"  
  
"No pranks. They're distracting, and would only take away our concentration from the mission."  
  
"Mission, shmission. Just the one ..."  
  
"Fine, one. But it had better be good."  
  
"Okay, here's what we do ..." 


End file.
